Glory
by The Varajan
Summary: A general of the Imperium recalls his entire career since the beginning of the Dark Crusade. Everything he has done, his victories, his joys, his mistakes. And now, before his greatest victory yet he considers his being. Saints can be the greatest sinners


**Dear reader, this is a true story I made up. ******** Seriously though it is based on true events. I do not own DOW I am simply an avid player of the same. ALSO, please note that I am changing a few things from DOW: The Dark Crusade, such as rather than using the 1****st**** Kronus Liberators, I use an army I made in Army Painter, and I added a little more personality into the shot.**

**Soundtrack: Kingdom of Heaven**

**Song: Burning of the Past**

In the Pavonis Sector, on the planet Kronus, amidst the ruins of the massive spaceport, an Imperial General sat quietly amidst the bunkers on the front lines. He ran his hand through his black hair, he smiled, he had survived long enough to have his hair grow out a little, it was just shy of being tied back. He remembered his long line of successes in the Dark Crusade. Even as he had utterly defeated everything the enemy, or rather the enemies had to offer, he never let it go to his head, too often he had seen other commanders let their successes go to their heads and as such they were defeated by their vain pride and overconfidence. Later on this incompetence often resulted in an execution by commissariat.

He remembered his attack North Tyrea, how he steadily drove back the Eldar no matter how many times they attacked or how they ambushed his guardsmen. How he drove his Hellhounds to the okish base and made them lose ground by scorching the earth black. Then rolling over the chaos splinter cult that arrived on the scene with his Leman Russ Tanks. But then right at the end, when he had finally cornered the Eldar, every single charge which resulted in ten of them, by dozens of Sentinels or Leman Russ, were all shot out by the sheer concentration of Fire Prism tanks the Eldar had. He had had enough, as he trapped the Eldar by capturing their massive webway gate, in one last act out of spite as the Eldar utterly refused to surrender. He called in the Basilisk Artillery cannons. He bombarded every square foot of the plateau with Earth Shaker rounds. When he led the last charge with his guardsmen behind him, when they got to the top, they found there was nothing there.

They had won…

When they sent the massive juggernaught tank, the Baneblade, upwards into the Blood Raven's stronghold, the tank fired it's massive barrel into a concentration of Terminators and rolled over the Space Marines. In full outfit, the commander of the Imperial Guard fought Brother Davian, commander of the Space Marines in single combat, both combatants respected each other and

were saddened it had come to this. As he embraced the commander whilst slipping his consecrated, adamantine saber into a chink in the commander's armor, he held the Space Marine up, to prevent his body from falling. He laid him down and took his daemon hammer as a memento. The commander boarded a Chimera with the rest of his troops and the entire army receded from the base and the sector. The Litany of Fury, the Space Marine's orbital barge, fired all it's cannons on the area to purge it and protect it's relics and secrets. As the commander sat quietly in the Chimera, he couldn't help but feel saddened that it had come to this, two champions of humanity, fighting and killing each other. One of his men, patted him on the back in comfort, they had all done their duty, as the Space Marines had.

They had won…

As he sat in the bunker, he remembered all his successes. Over the Tau, the Orks, Space Marines, the Eldar and the forces of Chaos. Even when he had defeated Eliphas the Inheritor, and the same was taken by his masters, to some form of unimaginable torment, or perhaps even a worse fate. The forces of chaos that were left established a stronghold, or rather eight in the Pavonis spaceport. Dislodging them was going to be hell itself. The commander, above anything, enjoyed defensive warfare and was very well versed in the same. He controlled a well sized portion of the city in which the only attackable area had several lines of defense. Connected by tunnels under the bunkers and backed by Basilisk artillery, heavy gun teams, Hellhounds and Sentinels. He could hold the line, or rather three. One of them in the outer perimeter which encompassed the gap in which the enemy could attack, a mid line, smaller than the first and a final conglomeration of bunkers amidst the base, he had his battery of Techpriests line every gap before and between the lines with hundreds of mines.

Even though he was outnumbered ten to one, he was not going to be an easy prey.

He got up and began to walk the line of his bunkers. As he passed his guardsmen, all of them gave him, nods, or bowed their heads or raised their rifles. He had their love, he had led them through the deepest bowels of hell that war could offer. He had never let them down. After they dislodge this massive bastion of chaos, all that was left were the genocidal Necrons, that he had contained in their desert.

The time was upon them, as he heard his priests give a final prayer to the troops he couldn't help but remember why this fight had a special importance to him. It was a well kept secret but, the

Imperial Commander of this army, the Varajan 101st had been a disciple of Chaos, even though he left the Legion Irae after it had been finally defeated not by the forces of the Imperium, but by the forces of Chaos, fearful of their growing influence and power. He felt like he was in Virago, the Legion's "home" planet. Hopelessly outnumbered, trapped, alone, only with his soldiers. But things were not exactly the same this time around, with the Varajans, his countrymen from his home planet of Varajo. He had liberated several planets as a servant of the Imperium, and in this case, he was outnumbered, but by no means trapped. He fingered his forehead, he had the star of chaos, etched under his skin.

"Chaos help us" he thought as he shouldered his saber, marked with the emperor's Aquila. Funny thing, a consecrated saber didn't burn him even as he was what he was.

**Soundtrack: Three Day's Grace**

**Song: I Hate Everything About You**

As the daemons and cultists began to scream their wiles and vile litanies in tongues of chaos which he recognized to be prayers to the brute of a god; Khorne, the commander gave a quick look at his men. They were edgy, they had faced the worst of chaos in the Deimos Penninsula and came out on top, but he had to admit, chaos was scary. He felt lightheaded, he loosened his collar, a few of his soldier's gave him strange looks, even the two girls who he never asked them for their names looked at him funny. Both of them looked to be around fifteen and sixteen, the elder one fired her autocannon and the younger one was in charge of ammo. The commander hadn't expected them to last fifteen hours when they joined them, but they lasted from beginning to end of the war. He didn't like memorizing the names of his troops, it only hurt more when they got killed. But with the more, exceptional or brave ones, he asked them for their names. He felt dizzy, he mentally slapped his forehead. He had been holding his breath. The girls laughed, his men smiled, as far as Imperial Commanders go, he was very funny. They all liked his oddness and ways. He was grateful that the times when he had weird little episodes of chaos, they just dismissed it as just an eccentricity.

He walked to the edge of the bunker and kneeled by the two girls, "What are you names troopers? I've seen you both from beginning to end of this war but I've never spoken to you two" he said with a smile. "Natasha sir!" said the older one, remembering she was speaking to a commander, "Re-Rebecca sir…" said the other one shyly. "I'm Sergius. I hope to see you both when this is over" said the commander. He slinked back into the bunker giving them both a reassuring wink. Both of their faces lit up as they saw the commander stroll away, talking on the comlink. It wasn't every day an Imperial Commander gave you their first name.

"Commander Iscariot, you have movement" said the Imperial assassin as she was perched around a broken statue of the emperor on a higher area of the space port. "How many?" asked Sergius as he accelerated his pace through the tunnels to a middle position in the front line where he could watch everything with relative clarity. "Emperor save us….thousands", "How many?", "Maybe five thousand, we have only five hundred troops sir, this has to be the worst scenario we-", "Sam what did I tell you?", "Yes sir, I trust you sir, I'll pick off their leaders", "Good girl" said over the comlink before switching it to a different channel but just late enough to hear a girly "Excuse me?". He smiled, Samantha really was a wet blanket sometimes, on duty everything had to be proper. Sergius only called a few people by their first names, these were his friends.

Everything was set, fighting was all there was left to do.

With an unnatural, void-like roar, which Sergius recognized instantly to be from a Bloodthirster a crimson wave with ivory trim charged forward. Even in the pale light of Kronus's three moons, Sergius, could see the full extent of the army, it flooded from three main areas, one directly south up a massive road, one form a broken segment of wall that led to another series of wide streets, and another from a previous battle field in a chokepoint. Governor Lukas Alexander's men had died there, and so had the governor-militant himself. Sergius was now the new one. He could not fail. He had too much riding on his success. A planet for himself and his company.

A charge in the form of a planet to protect, and with it, a form of peace, he, they, needed this.

Amidst the cultists he could discern the taller Space Marines, Obliterators, possessed half-breeds and the giant Defilers. For a fleeting moment of nostalgia, he suddenly felt a rush of anger. "As you did to me on Virago, I'll do to you on Kronus", and with that he said clearly over the comlink, "500 meters". With that, six Basilisks began to fire.

Even as the shells tore holes in the formation, shredding awkward cultist and veteran marine indiscriminately, even destroying Rhino transports filled with Khorne Berserkers with the intent of ramming into the lines and dropping their vile cargo among the very guardsmen. The charge didn't slow down. "450 meters" he said into the comlink, another six Basilisks began to fire. As his

artillery began to tear through the formation, for every warp maddened servant they killed, ten more seemed to take its place. He had to stem the tide quickly, otherwise they would be overwhelmed. "425 meters" said Sergius into the comlink, only seconds later as the forces of chaos crossed into 410 meters did the charge tumble slightly. They had reached the first of three mine fields on the way to the base. The guardsmen in the bunker, listening intently to their commander's voice for some form of comfort in authority, for a fleeting moment of bubbling panic in the form of the realization that the artillery was not firing, did they notice that the artillery had stopped cold. And just as they realized this, twelve echoing blasts flew through into the sky.

Twelve Earthshaker rounds tore into the sky and shattered the concrete, plasteel and soil of the earth. With it, hundreds of troops were disintegrated. The bombardment would not recede anymore, every single shell hit around that margin in the kill zone. "400 meters" said Sergius and the heavy gun's operators seemed to wake from a tense slumber and steadied themselves. Natasha and Rebecca's normally sunny faces, suddenly turned stoic and serious. The two girls put on their night vision goggles and waited for their commander's order. "375 meters, heavy guns open up with everything you have!" screamed Sergius, two troopers on each side of the middle bunker spread the word to the adjacent ones. In two seconds all the heavy guns were firing. Autocannons, heavy machine guns and even lascannon heavy guns barked their ammunition.

Through the almost epileptically rapid intervals of shuddering light of the firing guns. Sergius could see the full extent of the damage being done. The enemy casualties were massive, but not what he was looking for. Cultists were the main casualties here, the more elite troops were behind. These were the ones that were a real threat.

The heavy guns continued to mow down the troops, every one silently waited for the commander to relay new information. Sergius stared out into the field. He gave no new orders, he silently held himself, he was feeling the hand of chaos euphoria gripping him. He was desperately trying not to take Davian's hammer, his saber and charge out into the field. This was not the time nor the place. He looked back almost violently when he felt a hand on his shoulder, it was Guillard "Chicken Killer". A good captain and a great friend, "Sergius concentrate" he said. Guillard always knew his moods, he was one of three people who knew Sergius was once a chaos lord or at least aspired to be one. The same looked forward, he shouted "300 meters, semi-automatic, fire high!". Suddenly, hundreds of rifles stuck out of the lines bunker's openings and fired high single shots. All the same shots, curved down enough to hit the targets in the chests and necks.

Sergius felt a slight shudder, as many of the troops they killed, more and more took their place. This wasn't working, they were going to have to fall back soon. More and more troops were mowed down, their murderous charge unabashed by the relentless guns. Before, he knew it, Sergius was staring at a line of almost one hundred Obliterators slowly approaching with their appropriately named "Obliterators" firing. "250 meters, fully automatic, drive them back!" he screamed as he pulled out his own plasma rifle and fired it indiscriminately at the juggernaughts. The bulk of the firepower was aimed at bringing the Obliterators down, little did Sergius know that the real problem was about to land behind them.

A sudden crashing thud and a shudder of the earth. Sergius could smell the thick, overpowering smell of sulfur and gore and a overwhelming presence of inhuman might and hatred. A Bloodthirster was behind them. He looked a Guillard, who even in with his dark skin and in the darkness of night looked as pale as a ghost, "Sound the retreat!" yelled Sergius, as the order spread like a wild fire, Sergius emerged from the bunker, if he could help it, he would save as many of his comrades as possible, chaos lord or no, he always loved his troops and would protect them from harm as much as he could. Bullets whizzed past him, and those that hit him bounced off his psy shields, it hurt as hell but the little trinket kept him in one piece.

He looked up and saw the massive creature, dressed in obsidian body armor and wielding his massive double bladed axe, forged of innocent blood, black marrow, and spiritual energy known as hatred. The creature roared, both Natasha and Rebecca looked back, it was right about to swing the axe down on both of them. Sergius, without thinking it, drew Davian's holy hammer and brought it up horizontally, if the consecrated bit about a deamon hammer being effective against deamons was true, he was about to find out. The massive axe smashed into the glowing hammer and almost bounced off, the deamon seemed genuinely surprised as it took up his axe and prepared to swing it again.

A bolt of lightning shot from out of one of the bunkers, and a void of violent energy was drawn or rather stripped from the creature. Sergius sighed internally with relief, it was his two closest psykers, Darien and Alex, as always with impeccable timing, saved his ass once more. The creature roared in pain and overwhelming anger, it was more enraged with the fact that these humans managed to hurt him than it was with their overall existence. Sergius wasted no time in swinging the hammer as hard as he would into the creature's talon, the same tumbled a bit, he couldn't get at the creature it was way too tall. As if on cue he heard a Basilisk fire, from experience he knew what a Basilisk firing at him sounded like. The shell engulfed the creature's back, the same staggered forward then roared in defiance and rage at it's attackers. Damn it, was there nothing truly effective against these monsters? Sergius remembered then and there, no, there really isn't, the only cure was to fire as much as one can until they would finally fall.

Sergius grabbed onto Natasha and shoved her into the bunker, the same had her autocannon strapped to her back and Becky had her ammo backpack with her. As the group dashed through the tunnels Sergius could hear the charge they set, go off and collapse the bunker, almost simultaneously he heard several more explosions. He hoped his friends were ok. He hoped that everyone was ok.

**Album: Disturbed**

**Song: Down With The Sickness**

The group fell back to the second threshold.

The wave and charge had lost some of it's luster, but now the elite troops of chaos were approaching. The mine fields were hindering their advance but only so much. Now there were a series of trenches from where the troops could fire, along with the bunkers this was the only mid line of defense. Sergius and the troops were now openly engaging the chaos troops, firing, firing, firing. The sky seemed to be light up with las shots, grenade explosions, plasma fire and shells. Deafening weapon discharge muted all other noise.

Every so often a group of chaos troops would clear a way through the mine fields and would charge the bunkers. Sergius felt a swelling of pride, his own troops, ordinary, or rather extraordinary men and women almost bursted out their bunkers and engaged the enemy troops with their power bayonets or even power axes. He was glad he had equipped his troops with state of the art melee weapons.

As more and more enemy troops were mowed down, Sergius engaged the ones who managed to get to the bunkers. He was glad to see that his friend closest friend, a Kasrkin Sergeant by the name of Charlie was also unharmed. Flaring away with his automatic. Still, as more and more and more of elite troops began to approach, Sergius began to accept the sickening realization that he was going to lose this threshold faster than he would have found to be comfortable. He ordered a second retreat as the Bloodthirster roared and reached the second lines.

A champion of chaos had almost tackled the retreating general , he knocked Sergius down, the same tried to bury his weapon into the young general's chest, screaming litanies of chaos whist swinging his disproportionately large mace down on him. Sergius couldn't help but feel a certain dread, if he wasn't protecting his troops. Who was? Sergius blocked thrice and almost got up then, from seemingly out of nowhere. The champion's head exploded. A distinctive round had been fired, a distinctive round heard above the cacophony of battle, Sergius recognized it to be Samantha. "Keep your eyes open!" she scolded him through the comlink, as he smiled in her general direction hoping she saw him, he noticed as he looked back at the approaching troops, there were hardly any commanders left. No sergeants, no lieutenants and no captains. Samantha was really a hell of a shot. As Sergius ducked to go into the escape tunnel, he saw a Predator stop just shy of his bunker, he was surprised when the tank didn't aim at him, but rather at the ledge.

"Samantha look out!" he yelled at the comlink.

Samantha, saw it all in slow motion. The tank's rotating head and how it aimed at her. The etched death's head on the end of the barrel, the cultists yelling at the drivers and gunmen to fire at her position. Then the flash of the cannon and the sound of Sergius's voice, then silence and darkness.

Through the madness, the gore, the dead, the screams of the daemons and dying. Sergius could see the sky, it was just about to be dawn, he remembered Samantha's face. He hoped that his bloody Techpriests manage to reactivate his last resort before they were driven back, he hoped that Samantha was ok, he hoped everything would be ok.

If not, all was lost, but for now, he thought it to be ok, to get lost in warp madness as he gutted, slashed and maimed his enemies. Even as he accepted ; the second stronghold was about to fall.

**Album: Pirates of the Caribbean III**

**Song: At Wit's End**

The Imperial Guard had been driven to the last, bastion. Defeat seemed certain, was this the end? Everyone was in their last positions, they couldn't see the end to the wave of chaos. All seemed lost.

Sergius stood on top of an entrenched Chimera, he had to say something, anything to uplift their spirits. The commissariat was present, every single one of the members of the Varajan 101st knew his ways of being. Even if something he said could be interpreted to be heretical, he could say it. That was just the kind of standing he had with his men.

"I have fought with this company for as long as I can remember. We have fought and died together, from the highest peak to the lowest pit we have fought and bled and died. But every time, we have come out victorious, now the chaos legion faces obliteration!" he screamed out as loud as he could. His men cheered, this was a cocky proclamation on his part, but this was a do or die situation.

"Even as our enemies surround us, never let them forget that it was **us**! **Us**! Feeble, weak and cowardly Imperial Guardsmen who have brought every kind of enemy known to the Imperium of the Holy God Emperor to their knees. Never, let them forget that it was **we** who killed the Avatar of Khaine, that it was **we **who brought the Warlord Gorgutz's Waaagh to ruin. That it was **we** who have run through every army under our iron treads, that it was **we** who purged all life from the battle field with our rifles and heavy guns, that it was **we **who brought the very sky down upon our enemies. Never let these monsters forget that it is **we **not the Space Marines who are the Hammer of God Emperor himself. Live or die, let this day be remembered as the day when the Varajan 101st made their stand against all chaos, never forget this day soldiers, it will be ours for all time. Today is **our **day of glory!". The whole army cheered in zealous frenzy.

They had taken a relatively low amount of casualties up till then, but now they had nowhere to hide. It was now or never, amidst the cheering soldiers, Sergius could make out Mahrs, "his" Techpriest. The same gave him a nod and a stare. The repairs were going well, but they needed time.

The chaos legion seemed unstoppable, as they cleared the last minefield, everything was dark. Their charge slowed down slightly, all the troops who were wearing night vision visors could see that there was no one at the base. Everything was shut down, everyone was gone. Had they won?

As the chaos legion approached slowly, slinking up to the seemingly abandoned bunkers they were caught unawares and extremely powerful floodlights lighting up suddenly. Overwhelming the sight of everyone in front of them. It was like looking into the fucking sun. And with that, in that second, the entire base reactivated itself and all the bunkers began to fire. The heavy gun teams appeared from the flanks among the ruins of the city. The Predator tanks, the same ones who had fired on Samantha fired into the bunkers, only to be fried as Sentinels dashed to them and fired their Cleanser cannons into the tank's engines. Cutting a swath into the same. The Hellhounds fired their flaming salvo at the enemy lines. For a moment everything seemed to be about to go their way.

This vision was shattered when Possessed Chaos Space Marines, Daemon packs and fresh Obliterators dashed through the fire. Sergius's soldiers were pushed back as they were torn apart, Sentinels shot to pieces and Hellhounds caused to combust, engulfing nearby soldiers and the crew with it's fiery ordinance. For a moment, as Sergius ordered the final retreat to command, he drew a sense of comfort that these men would be killed quickly, the same sense was shattered when he saw the monsters completely ignore the immolated men and women, prolonging their suffering. Normally, Sergius would have ordered some of his troops to kill those men as a form of mercy, but stopping now would have been fatal. The Bloodthirster stopped only to grab a few of these troops to tear them to pieces, only to have his hand and face burnt as the same men and women pulled all the pins of the grenades on their jackets. Some of the troops still on the ground who were on fire or wounded did the same and tackled a servant of chaos to the ground, killing himself the one who he took down and maiming several more.

As Sergius retreated with his men he couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of resolve and pride in his soldier's sacrifices and courage in the face of death. He didn't care what anyone else thought or said. His legion was the finest legion in the universe.

What was left of the chaos main bulk rushed past a corner killing the stragglers, victory seemed certain. It was only when they turned a corner of a massive wall into the command station did they hear the deep, echoing rumble of the finest weapon in the Varajan 101st's arsenal come to life. Uttering a small prayer to the machine spirit of this ancient and powerful weapon, Mahrs took the controls and said "For the Emperor". The Techpriests had successfully repaired the legion's oldest surviving Baneblade, a mechanical titan who towered over other Baneblades due to it's augmentations and additional armor. It was one of the finest and most distinguished weapons in the Imperial Guard's history, a behemoth who the troops named "Iscariot" after their commander.

The chaos troops stopped cold for a second. The every gun on the tank fired, the massive mob was, riddled with bullets, disintegrated by lascannon fire, obliterated by shrapnel or killed by the remainder of the troops guns or the shots from the two sister Leman Russ Tanks the legion had left. The Bloodthirster charged around the corner seeing as the guard was cornered, the last thing it ever saw, was the other end of Iscariot's long, black barrel. The daemon's head was utterly blown apart showering the head of the chaos army with gore and blood from a direct hit from the tank's main cannon. The massive and ancient tank rolled around the corner and flared away all it's guns, sliding confidently over the dead body of it's adversary, followed by the two sister tanks at it's flanks, a damaged Sentinel and the rest of the troops. What heavy guns were left took up in the remaining two Chimeras one of which was in bad shape having been hit on the side by a melta grenade by a chaos raptor, and mounted their guns on top. The small caravan rolled out and assembled almost naturally into a solid wedge and began to roll forward. What was left of the chaos army, which was not very little charged forward, urged forward by the true leader of the army; a Daemon Prince.

**Soundtrack: System of a Down**

**Song: Snowblind**

What was left of the chaos legion charged forward , now having new feverish resolve in the presence of their lord and god. The caravan marched forward with black resolve and a wicked eagerness as dark as their uniforms. A sense of ill omen settled on a chaos sorcerer as he saw the crimson sun rise behind the Imperial troops. They looked like a red tide.

As the two armies neared to clash, Sergius from the corner of his eye began to see more and more survivors of the lines come up behind them to join in the assault. About a dozen dug themselves out of debris and a few from the mouth of the collapsed tunnels. Charlie formed up his Kasrkin squad behind a Chimera, an aura of eagerness exhumed from his troops. He saw, much to his relief that Natasha and Rebecca were alright, both had taken control of two heavy guns on top of the second Chimera. Alex and Darien, both with blood riddled robes and melee weapons as well as laspistols sat half crouched behind the two girls. A pair of morbid little juveniles, both, for as long as Sergius had known them had a predisposition for warfare.

They were born for this, then again, they all were.

Only when Sergius stood up on top of Iscariot, hitching a ride on the juggernaught did he notice that on the other Leman Russ, peaking his head out of the cockpit while handling his heavy rifle was Guillard.

Another moment of nostalgia. Now, more than ever Sergius and his comrades were together, even Saul, the fat priest, was shouldering his disproportionately large chainsaw sword and putting on his goggles for his knife work was with them. This was going to be one hell of a battle.

A fleeting moment of silence came upon them as the two armies clashed, the remainder of it was torn quickly, but the more elite Space Marines left were being stubborn.

As Iscariot fired round after round into the crowd, a single chaos sorcerer singled out Sergius. Firing shadowbolts which almost seemed to sizzle harmlessly off Iscariot's armor did Sergius notice who it was. "Antipas? You're still alive?" he said as he drew Davian's hammer. "Why won't you die!" yelled the chaos servant. Landing blow after blow, block and block, the pair linked into combat. This was a battle Sergius had been hoping to have, after all, it was Antipas who had betrayed him before and allowed for his utter defeat as a chaos lord.

Guillard, Natasha and Rebecca had formed a small camp like structure by closely parking all the vehicles together on the right flank of Iscariot. The same was a small bunker like structure for the soldiers, seeking footing on the scorched and red-bled earth, they fired their lasrifles, man after man they repelled the oncoming soldiers, half-breeds and cultists.

The pilot of the Sentinel simply charged feverishly, nimbly piloting around the destruction and nailing the larger troops with his Cleanser cannon.

The other Leman Russ Tank, and Charlie's troops had formed into a fire-team formation. Forming a crescent moon, they drove forward into the oncoming soldiers. Charlie had always had a flair for offensive combat.

Mahrs himself sat carefully amidst his team of copilots firing all the guns of the Baneblade ancient, careful not to hit any of his allies. Then he saw it, the stemming of all the troops, they were all retreating. Probably to mass into defensive combat. The varajans were driven into a frenzy by this, they were winning. They reformed into a line formation as they charged forward for the edge of the giant freeway where all the forces were retreating, and where Sergius was, locked in combat with Antipas.

**Soundtrack: Three Day's Grace Deluxe**

**Song: Drown (In your own or your enemy's blood)**

Antipas was losing steadily but surely. Sergius was simply better at melee combat. Antipas knew, he could not die, not yet, there were plans for Kronus. He had to see them to fruition, if it weren't for that incompetent Eliphas, they would not have had this massive set back. And just like that,

when Sergius was about to bring down the blow that would have ended Antipas's life, he teleported in a flash of violet energy, he was gone. Sergius shouldered his hammer and looked around alertly, it wasn't unlike Antipas to teleport away when he got in over his head, but it was unlike him to do so to set an ambush, still he wasn't going to take any chances.

The massive Daemon Prince, whose name was never known turned to his troops, in a roar of frenzy stirred in them a sense of euphoria and bloodlust. It produced the opposite effect when right at the moment that the daemon raised his cruel, black sword into the air, did Iscariot seemingly ascend like a black hammer from the edge of the broken gully of ruin and fire all it's guns unto the face and chest of the daemon. The same perished in the most shameful manner possible to a Prince of Daemons. Without even killing one mortal. The enemy, saw the rising sun and the Imperial Guard in awe and fear. Death had arrived, against all odds and all probability, this wasn't supposed to have happened. They were supposed to have crushed the guardsmen, ordinary men and women. Why was this happening? As they stared at the troops, some ran, some fell to their knees. Natasha, Rebecca, Sergius, Alex, Darien, Saul, Charlie and Guillard, soldiers of the guard who had been drafted from a children's militia, people who were barely twenty years old, looked like they were angels of death. Unstoppable, immortal, death itself, then again, these children, or rather young adults proved one thing; children of war, make the best soldiers, better than adults trained for it even.

The caravan rolled and roared through the eight corners of Pavonis city, killing, burning, destroying everything. All the meager resistance that the enemy mustered was crushed. Fire teams led by Charlie drove the heretics one way through the streets and around a corner only to get torn apart by Natasha and Rebecca's heavy guns. Darien and Alex walked through the chaos bases hand in hand sowing death with psychic energy and synapses. Servants of chaos simply fell dead around them, massive cranial hemorrhages making them bleed from every orifice in their heads. Saul, Sergius and Guillard were the ones who engaged the enemy in open combat, tearing through them. These children above anything, understood the joy of killing others. The Varajan 101st was composed of people from one of the most war torn worlds in the universe. And defending the Imperium from enemies as utterly, evil as the forces of Choas, was something these children enjoyed to no end.

Tyranids, Chaos, Eldar everyone had tried to at one point or another take this planet. They had all failed, these children, men and women were a testament to that people's tenacity.

**Soundtrack: Kingdom of Heaven**

**Song: Coronation**

In the city of Pavonis, as the sun dawned on that new day. The city was silent, but was singing at the same time, a sense of glory engulfed the city. Some call it the "Breath of the Emperor", but one thing was certain, on that day, extraordinary people did a great thing. The hold of chaos was shattered. The Hammer of the Emperium, as thinly stretched as it was on Kronus, it had prevailed.

As Sergius stood on the edge of the group of his cheering soldiers, who were embracing, kissing or shouting in joy. Sergius fingered his etch under his skin once more. His soul belonged to Tzeentch, the chaos god of deceit. He regretted having sold his soul to gain power, he had been on the wrong side once, he would never make that mistake again. It was a cruel thing, that he had to deceive almost everyone as to what he really was. It was a cruel irony, that he could never be truthful with anyone, and keep them at arm's length. Being a chaos lord, was a powerful thing, one could have whole worlds, but also be completely alone at the same time.

As Natasha came up to him seeing him distant from the group she said "Sir we won! We won!". He smiled in kind, they had, against every reason, every challenge, they had. He and she stopped for a moment as they saw how the light from the sun created shafts of light from the ruins and lit up the field in a way that almost made it seem….beautiful. There was still much to do, and a great and truly endless army stood before them in the desert of the Necrons. But they had earned this fleeting moment of respite, after a battle that could only be described with one word; Glorious.

They had won…

**If you liked this fiction, and want to see more stories about Sergius and the Varajan 101****st**** let me know. And if you are wondering how did I mean this was based on true events simply know this. I did play a scenario against seven chaos opponents of the Word Bearer Legion in Skirmish. This is quite simply a retelling of what happened. Sergius, or rather Sergio, Guillard, Saul, Charlie, Alex and Darien are real people by the way, and good friends of mine, but none of them play DOW. Samantha, Marhs, Rebecca and Natasha are made up though. I hope you loved this piece as much as I did, and remember if you want more stories about the 101****st**** and the band of misfits who lead them, let me know. Here's an imperially approved cookie!**


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